Lessons in Rule Breaking and Other Reader-Inserts*Steve Rogers*Reader*

Challenge Accepted...? - Pt.1/1

Steve's never been good at quick decision-making when it came to his own safety. After one particularly horrible experience, you find a way to remind him every day to think twice the next time he's faced with a tough choice. He is not amused.

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I have entered the pit of Tumblr and so far took part in one writing challange; this is the result. A prompt:  "I thought you were dead." "You're never gonnalet that go, are you?" for @mermaidxatxheart 500 writing challenge.

Enjoy :))

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Challenge Accepted

"Good morning, sweetheart."

You had been awake for about half an hour, sneaking from your bed – and how painful it had been, leaving the other occupant there – in search for caffeine; and more importantly to pick up the package that arrived for you that day. A package you had been waiting for to arrive for three days now despite requesting your order to be express.

You had been gracing your boyfriend with silent treatment the whole time and it was getting old, so you couldn't wait for it to end your misery. Naturally, it wasn't as simple as that, a package magically resolving your problems, it was nothing but an object, but you had been left you with three days to deal with your feelings and dark thoughts until it was delivered and you appreciate it.

Symbols were important; and the package was a symbol for you, a symbol of acceptance.

Raising your gaze from the floor at the voice, you couldn't but smile over your cup of coffee at how reluctant Steve sounded, the great Captain America himself afraid and hesitantly wavering at the door to the communal kitchen of the Avengers' compound.

You loved him to bits, which was why you hadn't enjoyed torturing him (and yourself) by keeping him at arm's length, but fuck it, he deserved every single second of it and more.

Jerk.

"Morning, honey," you replied warmly, barely holding your laughter at bay when an utterly baffled expression settled on his face at your sudden inviting tone. It was a complete U-turn from how you had been treating him the past days. "Slept well?"

It was a tricky question and you knew that he knew. Your time in bed – reduced to very chaste displays of affection, not lovers' ones at all – was the only time he had been allowed to touch you, because the very first time you had spent night together after the event, your body had followed its instincts and gravitated towards Steve no matter how pissed you had been. So, cuddling in your sleep was the most contact you had.

"...yes. Always do with you," he whispered, his steps towards the kitchen slow but firm, apparently encouraged by your inviting tone.

"I'm glad. Any residual pain?"

He gulped, but his face brightened a bit at your care; you, of course, had cared the whole time, but you wouldn't let him know too explicitly, your conversations rather clipped. When he had confronted you about it, about the way you kept threating him – with flames in your eyes –, your glare discouraged him from pressing further, his mouth opening only to fall shut again as you had stridden away.

"No. No, pain at all anymore."

You nodded thoughtfully, finishing your cup. "Good. That's good. Coffee?"

Not needing his answer, because it was always bound to be the same, you poured him a cup.

The moment you returned the pot to its place, Steve's large hand covered yours, the radiating heat of his body warming your back even with the slight distance between you remaining.